Page 83 of To Charm a Dark Prince

But that wasn’t why she stopped. That wasn’t why she ducked next to a column, afraid to disturb the scene. It was what was emerging out of the water that took her breath away.

Rising from the water was the figure of a woman made from threads and flecks of shimmering gold. Galahad had his hand outstretched, reaching for her. She was quite easily the most beautiful woman Gwen had ever seen in her life, though it was clear she was only a shadow of what was real.

Her hair flowed around her as if caught in water, and so did a long, flowing gown that draped from her shoulders. The woman was barely an outline that shone like dew in the torchlight. There was something forlorn about the sight—as though she were a ghost.

When the figure unfurled a set of double, gossamer butterfly wings from her back that stretched out behind her, Gwen gasped.

Galahad tightened his hand.

The flecks of gold dissolved into the fountain.

Galahad turned his head to look at her, his expression drawn and pained. “Good evening, Lady Gwendolyn.”

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She chewed her lip, feeling ashamed for having ruined the moment.

“It is quite all right.” He let out a weary sigh and turned back to the water. “You caught me reminiscing, that is all.” The ache in his voice was almost palpable.

Walking up to him, she hugged him. She didn’t know if the gesture was welcome—it probably wasn’t—but she couldn’t help it. Gwen expected him to go rigid, but he did not hesitate to put his arms around her and return the gesture.

She didn’t know who the woman was. She didn’t need to know. It was clearly someone who he had lost and had meant a great deal to him. Not all fairytales had happy endings, after all. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured to him. Her head barely came up to his mid-chest.

“It is not your burden. But thank you.” He stroked a hand over her hair. “You have enough to bear yourself, I fear. Why are you limping?”

“Mordred.”

“Ah.” It seemed she didn’t need to explain any more than that. He gently stepped away from her and sat on the edge of the fountain, patting the stone beside him. She joined him. “I see your necklace is gone.”

“He’s making a point.” She glared down at her feet.

“Which is?”

“That it was for my benefit, not his. That he was just trying to keep me from bursting into flames because it was inconvenient, not because I’m any kind of threat to him.” She picked at the edge of her chainmail skirt.

“And do you wish to be a threat to him?”

“I don’t know. I can’t stand that he’s…bottled everybody up. This all feels wrong. But even if I somehow succeeded in destroying the Crystal, he’d just start over again.”

“Yes, he would.” Galahad paused. “But I do not think he enjoys this stasis any more than the rest of us, if he were truthful with himself. He simply sees no other way about it.”

She took his hand and leaned against his arm, enjoying the comfortable, almost fatherly vibe the older knight had. He tightened his grasp, comforting her. “I can’t stop him.”

“No one can. That is the trouble with him.” He chuckled. “One must find a way to reason with him, and he is…stubborn.”

She snickered. “No shit.” Realizing that he probably didn’t know what those two words meant together, she translated. “No kidding.” No, that probably wasn’t good enough. “I mean—”

“It is fine. I understand.” He chuckled again, resting his other hand on her arm. “What is your opinion on our prince?”

“He’s lonely. Doesn’t trust his own shadow. And I feel bad for him.”

“Is that all?”

She sighed. “No. I…think Ilikehim. Even if he’s an asshole, beats me up while trying to train me, and really needs to take himself less seriously. I like being around him.”

“And what of Lancelot? I see how the Silver Knight gazes upon you.”

“Oh, there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s clearly the good boy, y’know? Sweet. Funny. Kind. Everything Mordred isn’t.” She shut her eyes. She missed her mom.

“But?”

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